You Get Me
by MarblePlum
Summary: As Ellie prepares to meet the future, she confronts the boy who meant the most in her past. Will their love be rekindled in the steamiest of places? For Joa.


**You Get Me**

Hey, you are on my side  
And they, they just roll their eyes

You get me  
When nobody understands  
You come and take the chance, baby  
You get me  
You look inside my wild mind  
Never knowing what you'll find  
And still you want me all the time  
Yeah, you do  
Yeah, you get me

So what if I see the sunshine  
In the pouring rain  
Some people think I'm crazy  
But you say it's okay  
You've seen my secret garden  
Where all of my flowers grow  
In my imagination  
Anything goes

I, I am all you want  
They, they just read me wrong

You get me  
When nobody understands  
You come and hold my hand, baby  
You get me  
You look inside my wild mindNever knowing what you'll find  
Still you want me all the time  
Yeah, you do  
'Cause you get me

Hey, you are on my side  
They, they just roll their eyes  
Yeah, yeah, yeah

**This story is dedicated to the wonderful lalatina (Joa), the coolest, craziest, sweetest Sellie fan you could ask for. This takes place during season five, a season you like for whatever reason :P, during the month of March. Hope you had a wonderful birthday, and have a great summer**! Nikki

_You Get Me is the property of Michelle Branch._

"I know!" exclaims Spinner, bending a plastic fork. "Dye the mashed potatoes green! For Saint Patrick's Day? Dude, they'd never see it coming!"

"What a great strategy, Spin," sighs Jimmy, shaking his head, grinning. "Next thing, you'll be coming up with game-winning plays, help the Yankees take the World Series. We can't do the prank this early anyway."

"Heh, witty comeback, Coach Brooks," says Spinner, dryly, tossing a French fry at Jimmy. "Better to get the creative water flowing."

"You mean, creative juices?" offers Jimmy. "Ellie, any ideas for the prank?"

Ellie shrugs. The only planning she's been thinking about is where she will spend September. September. Wow, it's only months away. She would be packing up her belongings in bins, suitcases, maybe her mother would hire a moving van. College calls, and her room is left bare. She doesn't want to admit it, but it did remind her of the last time she boxed up her belongings, moved out. With her mom and the apartment, that's two empty places where she found home. Her mom, surprisingly sweet, asked her back, and sensing some change in her, Ellie agreed. Only now, Ellie has no control over where she'll end up. In her backpack, she has three envelopes, with university logos situated in the corner, situated carefully in the inside of her journal. She figures if the outcome isn't what she wants, which has been the case with so many things in her life (Marco, Sean, Craig), she can thrust open the journal, write furiously, retreat to the spot in Degrassi where she's most coherent.

"College anxiety rears its ugly head," mutters Paige, setting down her tray next to Jimmy, letting her bag slip to the floor. "Bet you're so glad you're doing the early acceptance thing, Nash."

"I wanted to get it over with," waves off Ellie.

"Wish I did," confesses Ashley, sitting near Ellie. "Wanted to prep a music demo before I started applying."

"My portfolio's done," shares Jimmy. "Still researching, though. Not in a rush."

"You college people need to chill," says Spinner. "Man, so glad I'm staying for another year."

"Doesn't hurt to plan early, Spinner," says Ashley.

"What'd you think the prank is, dude?"

Ashley rolls her eyes. "Some future aspirations."

"Wednesday Adams, some of us like to have fun. Fun as in...uh...uh, fun. Yeah!" defends Spinner.

"For the record, I'm not goth anymore!" snaps Ashley.

"You guys should just make-out," jokes Paige. "Sexual tension over tater tots."

They all laugh, Ashley and Spinner furiously blushing.

"Heard anything yet, El?" whispers Ashley, throwing an embarrassed look at Spinner.

"Um...no," lies Ellie. "Not all of us have fat envelopes streaming in like Marco. Gotta...gotta go."

Ellie shoulders her bag, exits the caf. Silently, she moves through the halls, the corridors until she reaches a grey door near a supply closet. Taking a deep breath, she tries to get it open. No. No way. This door is never locked. She loved coming here. The noise didn't carry, and the one instance where the janitor found her, he didn't get mad. Dan was pretty quiet, like Ellie at times, so that' s probably why he had a soft spot for her. Well, that and she did a spotlight article on him, something that gave him a great sense of pride. Awww, he usually left this particular closet open during lunch.

Ugh, she needs somewhere to be alone, see what the future holds. The newspaper office, she thinks. It's lunch, so no one will be there, probably. She'd have to get the key from Hatzilakos first. She quickly jogs to the main office, as fast as her black boots can take her.

As soon as she steps inside, she wishes she hadn't rushed. Seated in a red chair in front of Ms. Harris', the secretary desk, is the person who left her in that apartment. Sean shifts uncomfortably in his seat, blue eyes covered by his trademark hoodie, baggy black jeans over his outstretched legs. Ellie's heart seems to move on its own, beating violently, as if it's thumping left to right. He catches sight of her, eyes widening.

"El?" whispers Sean.

"Hey, Ms. Harris," greets Ellie, ignoring him.

The secretary smiles at her. "Hello, Eleanor. Here to see Principal Hatzilakos."

"Just to fetch the Grapevine keys," replies Ellie.

"She's at a business lunch," informs Ms. Harris, eyes lowering to the magazines she's reading. "Go ahead and take the keys, though."

"Thanks," says Ellie, going to key rack where they kept the majority of the school keys.

She reaches for one set of keys, her hands shaking. Why is here? Why isn't he in Wasaga, with his parents, sorting everything out? And he hasn't tried to contact her? Well, to be fair, she broke the communication off too, after he called to say he needed some things shipped. She wanted to keep him on the phone, ask if he was feeling better, eventually thought it was best to not pry. Turned out he wouldn't be talking to her anymore after that.

Sean begins to cough furiously, sneezes, a pretend sneeze. Ellie eyes him suspiciously.

"Tissue?" asks Sean.

"Fine," says Ms. Harris, still reading.

He lowers his head, walks to Ellie. Sweat forms on her palms, and she stares straight at the rack, lips tense.

"Ellie, I...I...you feel like talking?" he whispers.

"No," answers Ellie, coldly, grabbing a random set of keys.

She brushes past him, says bye to Ms. Harris, starts down the hall, going nowhere in particular. The college letters have totally left her mind. What can he possibly say to her? Part of her does want an apology, but not like this, not out of the blue. She has to get used...to seeing him. Tears threaten to fall at any point.

Ellie stalls at a door, the door to the anteroom, that lead to the school roof. How ironic. She lays her forehead against the cool metal of the door, tears resting on her nose, then cascading to the floor. Assessing what's actually in her hands, she does spy the key Jimmy used to get in that day of detention. Cheeks flushed, she enters, using the key, shivers as the cold of the anteroom meets her skinny frame. Throwing back her hair, she climbs the black ladder, her head peeping through the small entry on top of the roof. Wind pounds her face, as she walks on the rooftop, sun highlighting the hair blowing near her cheeks.

Wow, two years ago, this roof came across as so huge. Today, it feels smaller. Perhaps the fact that she's leaving it all behind makes it that way. Walking to the center, she plops down, sees green trees wafting in a warm, delicate breeze, hears conversations of kids, eating lunch, from below. So peaceful, and no stress.

"Remember the last time we were up here?" asks a nervous voice behind her.

She hears his shoes first after that remark, crosses her legs. Then, Sean speaks again.

"You should really lock the door," advises Sean. "And man, are you a fast walker. That hasn't changed."

"Is privacy a foreign concept to you?" complains Ellie, throwing Sean a hesitant look. "Or is it only in Wasaga that people have the right to be alone?"

Sean shyly grins. "Well, Wasaga's not as good as I thought it'd be. Missed certain people."

Ellie crosses her arms, stands in front of them.

"Jay? Alex?" she says, coldly. "Sheila, the lunch lady?"

"Jay, not so much," kids Sean, then becoming earnest. "You, so much."

Ellie turns away from him, trying to make sense of that last statement. If he missed her so much, what's with the delay in establishing some sort of dialogue? Even Craig contacted her after the whole wedding fiasco, apologized. No, that won't cut it, especially since she was actually in love with Sean. If she wasn't, then why is she shaking, scared? I have to get out of here, she thinks.

"This roof is making me claustrophobic," mutters Ellie, heading to the hole in the roof where she made the climb.

She hurriedly goes down the steps, Sean following her to her dismay. He really is persistent. Stepping out of the anteroom, she begins to go down the hall.

"Don't forget to lock the door!" calls Sean after her.

Ellie stops in her tracks, frowns. She jingles the keys, finds the right one as Sean smirks.

"I didn't know you were so safety conscious," says Ellie.

"When you break and enter, it's best not to leave a trace," returns Sean.

He takes the keys from her. "Hmmm."

"What?" encourages Ellie.

"Got a weird collection here," says Sean. "Keys to the roof, a couple storage closets, the boiler room."

"Those must be Dan's," guesses Ellie. "He must be out today. No wonder the closet's locked."

Great. Now she'd have no place to go to check out these envelopes until she got home. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but her ideal choice would be the University of Toronto, since it was the closest to home and had an outstanding student newspaper. The school is tough to get into, though Marco already received notice of his acceptance. His envelope was a lot fatter than hers. That could be because he got a scholarship offer. She can't say for sure. Not getting in would just be another disappointment, her future crumbling before it even began. Her plans always seem to fall through, including the ones with the boy standing next to her.

"You look upset, El," notes Sean, handing her back the keys.

"What! No...no," stammers Ellie. "I'm fine."

"If you need someone to talk to...," offers Sean, anxiously.

"Why should I?" cries Ellie. "I tried talking to you and you ran off, or...skied off, nearly killing yourself."

"That was stupid," concedes Sean.

"My turn to run then," says Ellie, sharply.

Ellie twirls the keys, the pointed metal ends hitting her wrists. Ugh, she hates what it reminds her of. Yet, Sean being here is setting a wave of emotions, including an overwhelming sense of sadness, a sadness that makes her think of cutting. At the same time, he's the one that helped her to quit hurting herself. So funny how one person can make you feel so complicated.

Wiping her eyes, she continues walking, glances back to see Sean approaching her timidly. I need a door, she decides. Any door to shut him out. Jogging to a grey door, a wave of heat from under the door floats up to her legs, through her stockings, ripped from sitting on the rooftop. She goes through the rings maddeningly, selects the right one.

The Degrassi boiler room is incredibly warm, giving off an odd mix of being abandoned, yet looked in on occasionally. Ellie can relate. Rumor has it this is where students burned their permanent records after retrieving them from the principal's office. Missing records had been a problem during Raditch's reign, though that wasn't the case with Hatzilakos. Of course, there were other troubles Hatzilakos dealt with that made Raditch's run a piece of cake, the shooting being the exception. The shooting. Why did Sean have to stay in Wasaga for so long? Maybe they could still be dating? Maybe they'd still be in their apartment, trashing those dumb after school specials with teenagers who always had weekly traumas? Didn't he remember making coffee runs for her, or her folding his clothes? His clothes were always so wrinkled; she liked that they were sort of. Sean was concerned with more important things, like finishing school and watching out for her and Jay. This year, well, she has to watch out for herself.

And I will, she thinks resolutely. She enters the boiler room, a strong smell filling her nostrils. Coal. Sweat forms at the base of her neck. The floor is fairly clean. She lets her bookbag slide out of her hands, views the space. A tall, black furnace chugs, a loud tapping coming from the grate. There's a small window above her head, a metal chair underneath, where she assumes Dan sits to fix the furnace. The day has been so hot already, so the heat doesn't bother her. She'll sit, relax, be alone.

The door creeps open, Ellie suddenly realizing she forgot to close it. Should've followed Sean's advice, she begrudgingly admits, though as she turns, the person is Sean himself, removing his hoodie.

"This is one place in Degrassi I haven't been," says Sean.

"Leave!" orders Ellie.

"Not until we talk," insists Sean. "Ellie, you're not being reasonable."

"You're not being respectful, which isn't surprising," replies Ellie. "Now shut the door."

"Fine!" exclaims Sean, closing the heavy grey door with him inside.

It shuts with a shattering thud, Sean laying his head against the frame. Ellie's mouth hangs open.

"I meant with you outside!" she cries.

"You have the key," reminds Sean.

"So!" exclaims Ellie. "I'm not sure we can get out from the inside. Never been here before either."

"You...you haven't?" says Sean. "Looked like you knew where you were going."

Ellie kneels to the floor, sighs. This day can't get any more stressful.

"I have no idea where I'm going," she says, softly. "Okay, do you have a cell?"

"Not on me," answers Sean.

"Some help you are," mutters Ellie. "I have...no wait, I don't. Hatzilakos doesn't like cellphones in the caf, so I put it in my locker temporarily."

"Always did like Raditch better," whispers Sean. "When he wasn't hounding me."

"Agreed," says Ellie. "Did you know Hatzilakos kissed Simpson?"

Sean shakes his head in disbelief. "No way."

Ellie grins. "Sick, right? Yeah, luckily, his marriage survived."

After all, that's what strong relationships do, she thinks, looking Sean up and down.

"We gotta find a way to get out of here," she says after an awkward pause. "I'm okay now, but I don't want to be burning up later."

Sean shrugs, goes to the door, tries to wrest it open. He struggles, sweat pouring down his face. Taking a deep breath, he pushes again. He does so a few more times, his skin becoming red and drained.

"Sean, don't kill yourself," cautions Ellie.

"I can do it," assures Sean, making another attempt.

Pushing, his arm goes limp, and he shakes it, wincing.

"Come sit," instructs Ellie.

Sean glances at her guiltily, sits next to her.

"Ah," moans Sean.

Ellie rubs his hand gently, blows on his fingers. She recalls him burning his hand one day when he spilled her coffee, carrying the cup over to her. He told her had to go work on a project for Mr. Ehl, but she wouldn't let him work with a scalded hand. No, she called Mr. Ehl herself, told him Sean would be in tomorrow.

"So stubborn," says Ellie, narrowing her eyes.

"Learned it from you," returns Sean. "Ellie never says die. Aspiring journalist."

"I need to be stubborn," defends Ellie. "Stand strong until you get your story."

Sean grins. "Doesn't seem like a fault to me."

"Me either," says Ellie, a little angry that she feels a smile forming.

She releases him, starts to speculate how long they'll be stuck. The area around the boiler room was never really busy, especially after lunch. All the after school activities were near the gym, or the auditorium, on the other end of the building. They could be here until morning, when Dan usually made the rounds.

"Mom's going to kill me," sighs Ellie.

"At least you have someone waiting for you," says Sean.

"You...you live alone?"

"Yeah, a small apartment. Jay's over all the time, though."

"Aw, your first moocher," teases Ellie. "You must feel so grown-up."

Sean laughs. "Right now, I feel like a male maid, picking up after him all the time."

"You barely picked up when we lived together!" gasps Ellie. "I got jipped."

"No, when I was with my folks in Wasaga, they wouldn't tolerate certain stuff, so I'm much cleaner," explains Sean. "And calmer."

"Well, that's good," compliments Ellie.

"Back with your mom, huh?" says Sean.

"Yeah...um, rehab really helped her," shares Ellie. "You're not the only one who's cleaner and calmer."

Sean smiles, nods. He stands, takes off his hoodie, Ellie's eyes straying to his arms, more built and tan, since the last moment she's seen him. Wow, he must've been exercising...a lot. Ellie blushes, stares at his hoodie when it meets the floor.

"Promise that's all I'm taking off," says Sean, smirking, clearly noticing her reaction.

"Good!" exclaims Ellie, facing the other wall.

"Mind if I take a nap?" asks Sean. "Jay kept me up all night with his impersonations of Dave Chappelle."

If he sleeps, I can check out the envelopes, she realizes.

"Do whatever you want," says Ellie. "The boiler room is a free country."

Sean bunches up his hoodie, lays it on the floor, resting his head against the cool cloth. Relieved, Ellie unzips her bag, fetches the envelopes.

"What are those?" questions Sean.

"You _were_ sleeping," says Ellie, with as much sarcasm as she can muster.

"Zipping woke me up," says Sean. "College stuff?"

"Rejections," groans Ellie, shrugging.

Sean laughs. "How do you know unless you open them?"

"Marco got these fat ones, and mine are mildly skinny," replies Ellie.

"The best things come in skinny packages," he says, winking at her.

Ellie raises her eyebrows, trying to make sense of that comment. Oh, her body, she guesses, watching Sean's eyes travel over her.

"Don't make sexual innuendo with me," snaps Ellie. "You've lost those privileges."

"Okay, okay," sighs Sean. "Open 'em."

The wait _is_ aggravating her. Prolonging this would just eat away at her. Plus, Sean basically knew all her secrets anyway, except for the fact that she cried several nights after he left and that her fingers shook as she wrote his name and address on all the boxes she shipped to him.

"Waiting is overrated," moans Ellie, ripping open the first one from McGill.

Dear Ms. Ellie, Nash, we are pleased...yes, a yes from McGill! Ellie beams, flashes the letter in Sean's direction.

"See? That one was skinny," says Sean.

Ellie breathes in and out, opens another. A yes from Concordia, one of the bigger schools she applied to, and they sent her an invitation to a journalism info session too. One more, and it's the smallest.

"This is...this is the one I want," confesses Ellie.

"Whatever happens, you got two already," comforts Sean, sliding over to her side.

Ellie tenderly rips the envelope, her heart racing. She hasn't felt this sensation since...since the first time she and Sean kissed. One heart-stopping reaction, and now another. She opens the letter, as easily as she opened this boiler room door.

"Dear Ms. Eleanor Nash," she reads. "It is our great pleasure to welcome you to the University of Toronto, class of 2010..."

She stops reading, screams excitedly. Thoughts flying out of her mind, she unknowingly puts her arms around Sean, embracing him.

Sean grins, holds her against him. Their faces move in close together, and Ellie not only feels the sweat trickle on her neck, but everywhere. She presses her forehead against his. Sean strokes her back, left hand going up her shoulder, shaking in its ascent. Ellie's lips part, Sean waiting expectantly. She's not sure what she should do, but she knows what she wants, from that envelope, from her heart.

She presses her lips to his, Sean following her mouth intensely. The heat rises, around her, inside her, between them. Pushing him lightly, she catches her breath, walks over to the chair.

"Ellie, I love you...," starts Sean.

"We can't," insists Ellie. "Just...we can't."

II.

Pale blue light sneaks in through the window, illuminating Sean's sandy brown hair, his chest heaving up and down as he sleeps. Ellie chews on a nail, taking in the sight. A mild orange glow keeps them out of the dark, which they've been in for about an hour. After the kiss, Sean banged on the door a few more times, maybe because of the increased awkwardness. It was somewhat of a frustrated banging that time.

Frustration fed her too, although in a different way, a silent way. That's how she knows how to cope. A frustration that convinces her that a part of her should be upset, that he ditched her, didn't call. Then, a stronger frustration that these feelings, romantic feelings, have sprung back up. They weren't supposed to be there, but then again, she and Sean weren't supposed to be in this room.

She hears a light rumbling. The furnace? No, Sean's stomach.

"Mmmm," groans Sean, rubbing his chest.

Sean's eyes flutter open.

"Hungry?" asks Ellie.

"Ms. Harris was fixing my schedule so I didn't make lunch," answers Sean.

Ellie unzips her bags, finds some crackers she stowed away. She throws them at Sean, Sean catching them.

"Thanks," says Sean.

Ellie nods silently, crosses her legs. Suddenly, she sees a tiny light coming from Sean's direction.

"Is...is that a lighter?" she cries. "Sean, did you start smoking?"

Sean chuckles. "No...no, it's a pen light. Needed it to see where to open these crackers."

"Oh," breathes Ellie.

"Thanks for caring about my health, though," says Sean.

"Whatever," mumbles Ellie.

"I use it to see car parts better," continues Sean. "Thinking of opening my own shop actually."

"Really?" says Ellie, not apologetic for smiling anymore. "That's...that's amazing, Sean. You can do it. I don't remember you ever being stumped around cars."

"As opposed to everything else?" teases Sean.

"No. I meant...," protests Ellie.

"Teasing you," supplies Sean. "And thanks. Your opinion really matters."

"It does?" shrugs Ellie.

"Yeah...that's why...why I have to say I'm sorry," says Sean, smiling shyly at her.

"For?" prompts Ellie, walking nearer to him.

Sean gently guides her down beside him. He brushes back a loose strand of hair, grins.

"For leaving you, for not appreciating you being there, for all of it," says Sean.

Ellie drops her eyes, smiling. Yeah, if she didn't spend so much time running, she could've heard this sooner. It's funny. When the heat is on you, you do tend to run. When the heat is in you, you dare not run, because that heat, that spark feels pretty good.

"Cameron, you're turning soft," teases Ellie, playfully shoving him.

"Not," waves off Sean, rolling his eyes.

Sean shoves her in return, making Ellie laugh. He reaches for her waist, tickling her. She begs him to stop, as her body meets the floor, warmer than she remembered. Sean's skin looks orange in this light, a subdued glow. Instinctively, her fingers grip Sean's shirt, as his face inches towards hers.

"Do I freak you out?" he whispers, grinning.

"In the best way," says Ellie, blushing.

Ellie inches Sean's shirt up, keeping her eyes locked on his. Her skin tingles all over, Sean's hands moving to her waist. His shirt is thrown next to the hoodie, as if it were intentional.

"El, we're on a floor," breathes Sean, reaching to unbutton her belt, but pulling back.

"Not to me," sighs Ellie. "I can't feel any higher."

She leads his hand back to her belt, Sean loosening it, kissing her as the sound of hissing coal enters her ears. Sean reaches down, fiddles with the fly of his pants, letting them slide off his legs. Ellie glances to his waist, recognizes the boxers she used to fold. She knows him so well.

"It's like coming home," sighs Ellie, pulling him to her.

"I thought you'd... be the one... that got away," whispers Sean, in between kisses.

"Well, you're the one that gets me," whispers Ellie. "I love you...can't let that get away."

III.

Usually, she wakes up to the sound of an alarm clock, or her mother entering her room unannounced, fussing about having to get up for work so early, but this morning, it's the sound of a heart, Sean's. She wears his T-shirt, wipes sweat from her brow, Sean's arm covering her waist. They slept most of the night, which they've done so many times before. The setting no longer feels strange to her. If she put this into writing, it felt more like a cocoon, their own private home, smaller than their apartment, yet not too tiny. Instead of the rejections she anticipated writing about in her journal, she'd write about tonight, how wonderful and unexpected it was.

Dan would be here any minute. Still, she lays there, as the furnace quiets, the school asleep. In the calm, she can hear it all– the movement of machinery, the contented sigh of two people in the afterglow, a silent, but sure new beginning.


End file.
